


The Last Winter On Earth

by hart



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 2014!verse, Angst, End!verse, M/M, Plot What Plot, Porn, Supernatural AU: Croatoan/End'verse, This is basically angst disguised as porn, or porn disguised as angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-10
Updated: 2012-09-10
Packaged: 2017-11-13 23:31:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/508945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hart/pseuds/hart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the end of the world, so Castiel knows this is the last time- they'll be dead in a month at most, one way or another, so Castiel knows this is the last time. But perhaps if he closes his eyes to the apocalypse around him, he can trick himself into thinking it's the first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Last Winter On Earth

**Author's Note:**

> Dean and Cas fuck one last time before the end of the world crashes down on them.  
> 2014!verse, which means even PWP is riddled with angst.

Cas knows its the last time. He knows because its the first time Dean has so much as touched him, looked at him for months. Although he's not really looking now.

He knows its the last time because Dean isn't just fucking him, he's claiming him and inhaling him and he's going slow, face pressed into the bare crook of Cas' neck, hands clawing at his shoulder blades -sharper than they were- as though coaxing his vacant wings forward, pulling at the remaining strands of his withered Grace and searching for any sign of the old Cas; Cas who had Heaven behind his eyes and the tempests of piety behind his voice; Cas who was God's, who was Dean's, who was Castiel.

Cas knows its the last time because he can feel it in his chest. Because he can _feel_. An aching longing; he feels need; need to feel _more_ , to feel _everything_ , lust and grief and bliss and loss and everything anything _everything_ that floods from being so carelessly and mercilessly flung into humanity. To feel everything at once that he has been scared to feel before. All that he's muted with pills and killing and running running. He can feel the end in the way he shakes, the way he pushes down on Dean, trying to steal the pace, to make it fast, to make it hard, to make it hurt. He can feel the end in the threatening sting of tears he's never learnt to shed.

He knows its the last time when Dean rocks up into him, hits the place he used to and it feels _good_ , it makes Cas groan and grind against the muscle of Dean's stomach, but Cas doesn't have the energy to scream.

He knows its the last time when Dean finally looks at him. His eyes are dead and frostbitten by the apocalypse and in them Cas sees the itch to incendairise with Hellfire. To go out blazing like he always said he would. But instead he's fucking a broken once-angel in a dirty shack as the sorry end howls outside; an ugly oratorio sung by the sickening and the sick with vocal chords of cable wire and bone and no distinct fire or fight.

Dean's tongue tastes like cheap whiskey and battery acid and in that Cas fools himself into thinking that nothing's changed. That its 2012 and they're in Bobby's panic room, their blood is rushing in their ears and their adrenaline is high from an encounter with a particularly vicious bunch of Croats and they don't know what they're doing, where they're going but the end's just getting swinging and it feels right. Dean's tongue tastes like cheap whiskey and battery acid and he wraps his fingers around Cas' tie ( _"Dean, I don't know what to do." "Its okay, Cas. I have you, I've got you, I'll show you.")._

Cas knows its the last time when Dean changes their angle, pushes Cas down on the threadbare mattress, thrusts in deeper and moans against the shell of Cas' left ear. Cas closes his eyes and lets himself feel. Dean's skin is slick with sweat and he's the warmth of the last winter on Earth. Cas is filled with this heat, it burns through his veins and he blindly tugs the hunter's head down for another kiss and its hot on their tongues as they slide together, panting into each other's mouths, messy and possessive and not how it should be and exactly how it needs to be. When Dean pulls away Cas opens his eyes and the sight of Dean above him, moving steady back and forth and flushed a beautiful pink and fucking into Cas is almost enough to push Cas over the edge.

  
He knows its the end when his words get mixed up in his head, when he tries to say something he's always been sure of, something he's cleaved to when doubt first hit like nausea in frozen waves; that he could never doubt this, he could never doubt Dean. But he can't speak, and the only sounds he forms are breathy and cracked and he doesn't care can't care because Cas has missed the way Dean makes him higher than the drugs have ever made him.

He gasps, "Dean, I-"

And he can't get the rest out because Dean's losing his rhythm and Cas knows its the end because Dean says " _I know_ ," and makes Cas' vision go white for the last time.


End file.
